


ritual

by CorvidFeathers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Necromancy, Resurrection, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 23:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvidFeathers/pseuds/CorvidFeathers
Summary: What have you done?Those had been the first words out of his mouth.Delilah and Sylas, after his resurrection.





	ritual

**Author's Note:**

> The Briarwoods are awful but I love writing about them.
> 
> Warning for allusions to gore and violence.

Sylas licked blood from his lips. It did nothing for the smear across his face,or the stains on his shirt, but Delilah couldn’t focus on anything but his eyes. Dark, warm, and alive. Her Sylas. Returned to her. She clasped his hands against her chest, pressing them to the flutter of her heart. It felt like it might beat out of her chest. For the first time in months, she felt alive.

Sylas was quiet. With all the composure and mastery of a life-long soldier, he had assessed the situation, taken it in. His expression was thoughtful, but now he had attention for one thing only: her. His eyes drank her in, from her practically-braided hair, to the hem of her plain, black mourners’ dress. It was soaked with blood; Delilah could feel it beginning to stick to her skin- but that was why necromancers wore black. It didn’t show. In the past months, she had learned she had never even considered in her former life.

She had found talents she never knew she had. That was worse, probably. Try as she might, she couldn’t rekindle the guilt that kept her up the night before. Not with Sylas sitting her beside her.

“Vecna,” he said. The name of the Whispered One hung in the air of the crypt for a moment. Was it Delilah’s imagination, or did the corpse at Sylas’s feet twitch?

Then Sylas smiled. The lines around his eyes crinkled, the markings of impending age that she had taken such pleasure in teasing him for. He wouldn’t have to worry about that now.

“Well, if that’s the price I have to pay to be back with you,” he said, reaching out and touching her face. He wiped away the tears that had leaked from the corners of her eyes with his thumb. “I’ll gladly pay it.”

“We’ll it,” she said. “Together.” She shuddered. She had yet to get used to the cold of the crypt, the chill that crept into her chest with the musty air. The corpse at her feet was getting cold, and the candles around the bier begun to gutter.

“We can’t stay here. We’ll… The things I’ve done… They won’t stay hidden forever.”

He pulled her close, and kissed her until she stopped shaking.

 _What have you done?_    Those had been the first words out of his mouth. Desperate, breathless, scared, hungry… but it was her Sylas’s voice. The past months had been so quiet. All the hours stolen in this crypt, when she could spare time from her studies, with the silence choking the air from her lungs.

Beneath her hands, his heart did not beat. His mouth tasted like iron and death.

But he whispered her name, and at long last, everything was right again.

 _I broke the world,_ she had replied, reaching out and taking his hand.


End file.
